A Heart Full of Love Beats On
by PrincessDaydream77
Summary: On a lonely barricade, in the rain, Eponine Thenardier closed her eyes at last. But what if, as the rain dried on the pavement, she had opened them again?
1. Darkness Rises

A Heart Full of Love Beats On

Summary: On a lonely barricade, in the rain, Éponine Thénardier closed her eyes at last. But what if, as the rain dried on the pavement, she had opened them again? Marinine, eventually.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except the specific writing.

Chapter One

One day had passed. Twenty four hours, that was all. Twenty four hours that had changed the lives of countless, and ended the lives of dozens.

There they lay side by side, on the floor of what little remained of the Café Musain, pale, still and cold. Row upon row of children, most not old enough to know any better, to truly know the danger they were putting themselves in, to know that glory and death walked hand in hand in this fight. From the eldest of twenty two, named Grantaire, to the youngest of twelve, poor young Gavroche, to Enjolras, the leader of them all, Les Amis De L'ABC, each and every one of them dead. Almost.

By the side of the line sat the only survivor, Marius Pontmercy, keeping an unmoving vigil over the bodies of his friends, the arm bound in a blood spotted sling serving as the only evidence that he had fought alongside them, bar the distant expression of loss and the single tear creeping its way down the side of his face. He sat there in silence, as he had done ever since he had returned from the hospital. He had sat watching over one person in particular since then. The first in line. The first to fall. His poor 'Ponine.

Tears filled the young man's eyes as he remembered the events of the previous night. He had not been paying attention, had been concentrating on a pair of quarrelling lads behind the barricade, and on his own mind, and therefore had not noticed the National Guardsman approaching him, brandishing a loaded rifle in his right hand. He had not noticed until he heard the gunshot, turned his head, and saw his own best friend falling down to the ground.

Glancing down to the shirt beneath her swamping jacket as he sat beside her, the student saw that it was still drenched in the blood from the wound that had long since stopped bleeding. In a way, Marius had expected the shirt to have cleaned itself, as if by magic, that all evidence of Éponine's pain would have disappeared with the ending of her own, but of course it had not. It remained just as real as the hurt Marius felt to see it.

"Oh, 'Ponine. I am so sorry. If there was anything I could do to bring you back, I would do it, without a second thought. I wish this had all never happened." he confessed, taking the young woman's cold, dead hand in his and squeezing it slightly. For just a moment, he thought she would squeeze his hand back, as she had always done before, but of course, she hadn't. She never would again.

That was all his fault. She had died to shield him from a Guardsman's rifle, while his mind had been full of only Cosette. It was the only thought that still remained in his mind, his conscience a burden that he could hardly bear to carry. '_I am nineteen years old_.' he thought in utter anguish, his eyes filling with tears all over again. '_I ought to have known better_. _I ought to have stopped her becoming involved in the revolution at all_.' Now, in his quest for change, he had unwittingly led an innocent child to her death. He may not have been a murderer, but in his eyes, he might as well have been.

As sobs began to wrack his body, Marius stood and fled the building, no longer able to stop the flow of pain in the ruins of the place he had always come to in order to escape it.

Behind him in the Musain, the breeze from Marius' speedy departure had barely settled when the air of the room was disturbed once more. Along the line of silent bodies, one pair of eyes fluttered, flinched and opened.

The blurred eyes followed Marius' retreating back, eagerly trying to gauge where he was going to, from the speed and style of his walk, each type of which the person had come to recognise over the years. A weak smile surfaced on their face, twitching at the corners of their mouth, as they remembered the years that had gone by. The years with Marius. The years he had destroyed by what he had done.

With a yelp of pain, the figure sat up upon the floor, grasping at their side and biting their lip with almost enough force to draw blood. They proceeded nonetheless, rising to their knees and slowly staggering to their feet, crying out into the empty room.

After a few agonised steps, they collapsed against the empty doorframe of the Musain, matted brown hair splaying across the splintered wood. Their breath was coming in sharp pants, their head was spinning wildly, and the world around them would not stay still for a single minute.

'_Remember the good times. All the years we spent together. I would have thought better of you, my girl. Are you really going to let all that be wasted over a touch of pain?_' the figure questioned their own mind, desperately trying to encourage their legs to continue through the blinding pain that had whitened the edge of their vision completely.

The method was effective, as they stayed in that place for a moment, but only a moment. They were looking for someone after all; they could not let him get away when they did not even know if it was too late to find him. So, they did the only thing they knew they could do. They journeyed on.

So, through the slowly darkening air of the Paris sunset, Éponine Thénardier walked out into the shadows.

A/N: Please review this! Pretty please!


	2. The Water Lily

Chapter Two

A/N: Thanks to NanLikesEmmie-Bear, Thespian24601, Elena3579, Christine Eponine and MariusxEponine3 for being my first reviewers. You're all great!

The rain was not yet even dry on the pavement and the reflected moonlight shone upon it, lighting the way for the girl staggering down the back alleys of Paris.

Her goal was in sight now, a five storey towering apartment block against the blackening sky. It was familiar to her in the light of day, but under cover of darkness, even the most recognisable of things could twist and turn into the unknown. For Éponine, her destination was daunting enough. The Gorbeau building.

It was the first place that she had thought of when she thought of Marius. The student had once lived there after all, right next door to herself. Even if he no longer did live there, it was the best place the girl could think of to start.

It took her quite a while to reach the fourth floor, where Marius' old apartment was. However, she needed to be careful, as it was directly opposite to the apartment the Patron-Minette lived out of, and if her father should spot her returning to the place, he would not likely be pleased.

Upon reaching the time battered door, Éponine was not surprised to find that it was unlocked. The landlord, Monsieur Gorlait, while not hesitating to turf residents out when their rent was delayed, had never been overly concerned with the safety of the building's occupants, nor for their belongings. She knew that all too well, from the amount of people that her father had robbed under the man's very nose.

Pushing her fears aside, the girl staggered in through the doorway, clutching at her side as the burning pain increased. Her vision was becoming increasingly unsteady, the room around her swaying unnaturally, but still, she needed to see.

Much to her disappointment and heartache, Marius was nowhere to be found. Of course, she had not expected for the man to be present, knowing that he was more likely to be with his beloved Cosette. But still, a part of her was truly disheartened by the fact that he wasn't there. It was as if he had truly forgotten her.

When she thought of her memories, one jumped to the front of Éponine's mind. Something that she had once seen and long since forgotten, hidden within these walls.

Wracking her brains for detail, the girl bent down, the sound of her wincing combining with the sound of her knock on the solid walls. She continued her knocking, moving further along the wall until a hollow noise echoed from within it. That was what she had been looking for.

Scraping along the wall with her fingernails, the brunette found an uneven edge in the middle of it, where she dug in hard, using all of her strength to pull it away. Behind the false wall, there was a small space, and in that space there was a box. It was not a special box at all, just a few polished pieces of wood, but to Éponine, it was the most special box there could ever have been in the world.

A smile lit up the girl's fatigued face as she opened the lid, revealing the contents of the wood. Marius had always been a sentimental man, keeping things as treasures that Éponine would hardly consider worthy of a second glance. A drawing, a ribbon, a lock of hair, rather pointless things locked away like precious rubies.

Flicking through the other objects with little interest, something caught her eye. A piece of paper, violet in colour, rested in the picture frame at the bottom of the box, perfectly preserved despite the years it had been there. On one side of the parchment, a beautiful water lily was pressed and secured to the page. It had evidently been there for a good few years, due to the cream colour of the petals, but Éponine had known that since long before she had opened the wall. However, it was the inscription on the frame that brought tears to her eyes.

'_The beginning of the most beautiful friendship_.'

Despite her tears, Éponine was elated. Even if he had not truly felt her love, it seemed that Marius had always cared about her. Ever since the act of kindness that had gained him the flower, he had cared.

The girl remembered it well, the day she had first met Marius. Long before she and her family had become involved with the Patron-Minette, when they had just arrived in Paris, the winters were particularly harsh on them.

That particular winter had been one of the harshest she had ever known. Snow covered the ground, seeping through the substantial holes in their roof, while the harsh breeze blew through the cracks in the windowpanes. Consequently, it was much more difficult to find money that had been dropped by the rich, and so Éponine was sent to get some bread, by any means possible. When her father had said 'by any means possible', the child had known immediately that he meant for her to steal it.

Unfortunately, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't summon the courage to steal from the baker's counter. She knew that it was the only way, but she still just couldn't. It was wrong.

She had been sat sobbing in the snowfall outside the baker's for goodness knows how long, when a young man had come along, stopping to bend down beside her. He had asked her what was wrong and, as the entire story poured from her lips in a blur of words and hacking coughs, took pity on her. Éponine had hardly believed it when the boy had given her five whole francs to spend. He had practically saved her life, yet still he had almost torn it apart.

She had had nothing else to give him in return, so had plucked a water lily from the surface of a nearby pond, and had left it outside the door of the grand house she had seen him enter many a time. The next day, he had come back to find her again, and from then on, the pair were the closest of friends.

Shaking her head, Éponine slammed the box shut, moving the wall back into place in front of it, and collapsing into the hard surface after she'd done so, tears surfacing in her eyes. '_Looks like he doesn't care now though, not now that he has his dear Cosette._' the girl thought in anguish, sighing to calm herself enough to tell her heart a lie.'_Still, I suppose that if he can survive, so can I. It wouldn't be the first time_.'

Still intent on finding the man, if only to tell him she had moved on, she left the tiny apartment, shutting the door with some difficulty as she left. It was then that she noticed that something was not right. It was then that she realised… there was someone standing behind her.

"Well, well, well…" spoke the figure, in a low and deadly voice. "Look what we have here."

A/N: Please review this for me. Your reviews keep me writing.


	3. Pleading, Bleeding

Chapter Three

A/N: Thanks to my terrific reviewers, Christine Eponine, Thespian24601, Eponine Jondrette (twice), MariusxEponine3, NanLikesEmmie-Bear, PhantomFandom and A Pink Beast.

Éponine had frozen in utter terror, at the voice so clear that had sounded from behind her. Her worst fear had come true. He had found her.

Swallowing her fear, the girl turned, wincing as she saw, to her horror, that her mind had not been playing tricks on her. The voice had belonged to the most frightening figure in her life.

"Hello, Father." Éponine greeted the man, her words laced with a poisonous bitter tone.

"Don't give me that, girl." Thénardier all but growled, his gang members shifting a little behind him. It was the first time that Éponine had noticed them, and her heart sank further as she saw that her father was flanked by Brujon, Babet and Claquesous. Montparnasse must have been out on a robbing mission at the tavern, as he so often was. The younger Thénardier was even more downhearted when she saw that the man was not present. Beside her mother, 'Parnasse was the only one who would ever stick up for her.

The brunette was brought away from her thoughts when a solid blow struck her face, sending her reeling into the door she had just closed.

"Think you're too good for us now, do you, my sweet?" Thénardier asked, the last two words dripping with sarcasm. When she did not answer, he delivered another blow. "Answer me!"

"That wouldn't be difficult." Éponine mumbled, retaining the courage to say whatever she wished to, but not to say it clearly. Nonetheless, after years of being a thief, Thénardier's ears were sharp, and he heard every word of it.

"Care to say that again?" the man growled, grasping his daughter by the hair and holding the matted locks so tightly that the girl was lifted to the tips of her toes to avoid hanging in the air. Even through the terrible situation she was in, she was not afraid.

"I said… that wouldn't be difficult." she repeated, with much more force behind her voice. Her reward was another sharp blow to the face as her father released her hair, sending Éponine sprawling down onto the floor, screaming out in agony as her wounds collided with the splintering floorboards. Unfortunately for the girl, the worst was yet to come.

"Ooh… someone's gone all high class on us, fellas." Thénardier cackled, turning to his gang members as he did so, to see that all three had expression mirroring his own, before bending down to the floor, stroking Éponine's hair away from her face with a tenderness so false it was almost sickening. The young woman knew from experience that things would only go downhill from here. "You know, my pet, you used to be able to handle a touch of pain. It seems I need to teach you again."

The girl could not help but let out a whimper. Thénardier had always believed in teaching his children to deal with the world by experience, and Éponine, as the eldest, had always taken the brunt of the violence he had shown them, for the sake of Gavroche, at least.

"Let's see if we can knock some sense back into you, girl, shall we?" the man whispered, his lips an inch from his ear, something that infuriated his daughter, who hated the idea that he was so able to control her while doing so little. Once again, it was only to get worse.

Instantaneously, the four men advanced on her, pushing and pulling her around the landing. Éponine could feel the bruises forming on her skin from the very first blow, as solid fists collided with bone and leather boots with her blood drenched stomach. She bit her lips as tears flowed from her eyes, not wanting to give the men the satisfaction of knowing they had won.

The beatings lasted for a full four minutes before a cry came from the doorway of the opposite apartment, ceasing the gang's attacks at last. By this point, the brunette was sure that she was close to death, and could hardly believe her luck at being saved.

"Larone!" came the exclamation, one amazingly familiar to both Thénardier's. "What are you doing?! Leave her alone!"

"Give me one reason why!" the man responded, seething at the fact that he had been interrupted on a 'job', even if the interruption was by the only person he still held dear.

"Because she's your daughter." the woman replied, stepping forward and throwing herself to the ground in front of Éponine, shielding the girl with her body. "And she's mine, as well."

"Adrienne, just get out of the way." Thénardier requested of his wife, his tone softening at once from the love he still felt for the blonde. "I don't want to hurt you."

"But you are hurting me! Don't you understand? Every time you hit my daughter, kick her, yell at her, hurt her at all, you are hurting me. And you've been doing that for years. You just didn't know." Though the amount of love she felt was equal, if not more than her husband's, the bitterness in Madame Thénardier's tone was unmistakable. Luck seemed to be on Éponine's side upon her mother's arrival, as Thénardier had stopped in his tracks. This was an opportunity neither woman was willing to let pass her by.

"Thank you. 'Ponine, sweetheart, I need you to get out of here. Get out, and don't come back." Tears were welling in the blonde's eyes as she embraced her daughter, mindful of the injuries she had obtained. It was that moment when the girl realised she would never see her mother again. True, her father was very patient with his wife, but if he lost the main source of his income, he may well lash out on her.

Harsh as it may have seemed, Éponine had no time at all to consider her mother, as she was near dead on her feet. As she reached the street, she could feel that her wounds had reopened and were bleeding profusely, soaking her shirt in a matter of seconds. She had hardly a moment to turn the next corner before she collapsed, crying out, in a deserted alleyway.

The world was spinning, she could hardly see and everything was starting to fade away. There was only one clear thought remaining in her head. Marius.

Along with the thought, there came a tune, one that seemed to have been sung so long ago, yet it was only a week at most. The first time she had ever confessed her love to Marius, and the first time he had ever confessed his love in return… to Cosette.

_In my life, there's been no one like him anywhere,  
He is all I hold dear,  
Find me now, find me here._

And with those words, the world drifted away into darkness.

A/N: Thank you for reading, and please review, as always.


	4. A Dying Tune

Chapter Four

A/N: Thank you to NanLikesEmmie-Bear, Christine Eponine, Eponine Jondrette, PhantomFandom and xjazzxhottyx, as always, for reviewing.

In the streets of the higher end of Paris, as the moon sat above in the sky, a twinkling bell sounded through the silence of the twilight, as the books' emporium on Rue de la Jardin shut up shop at long last.

The silver key broke the silence once more as the lock clicked, and the metal tinged slightly as the shop assistant pocketed it, pulling out a pale handkerchief as he did so, to wipe the escaped tears from his leaking eyes.

It had only been seven nights now since the fall of the barricade on Rue de Villette, seven nights since all his friends had fallen, and seven nights since his life had changed forever. Despite all of the time that had passed, Marius Pontmercy could not forget.

The plot of the barricade had been the young man's life for so many months, all that he had thought of, other than his studies and most recently, Cosette.

As he thought of the blonde woman, another feeling appeared in his mind. For some reason, one which Marius did not have a clue about, whenever he was around his dear Cosette, he felt as he would if committing a crime, as if he were terribly hurting someone. Then he realised. He was.

For years and years on end, Éponine had stood at his side, comforting and supporting him without a single word of complaint. She had been his rock in times of trouble, his cheerer when life had become tiresome and his protector against the violent acts of the Patron-Minette. Yet somehow, in all of that time, he had hardly cast the girl a second glance. She was his friend, of course, but that was all.

'_Why was that all?'_ Marius asked himself, the question occurring to him all of a sudden, as he began the walk to the place he still called a sanctuary. '_It was utterly obvious by the end that she loved me with all her heart, so why did I never feel the same?'_

Marius tore his mind from the thoughts as he crossed the empty threshold of the Café Musain. Even after seven nights, a few of the bodies from the barricades still remained. The ones who had been disowned for their involvement in the revolution, the ones whose only friends had died alongside them, and the ones who had no family left to go to, like 'Ponine.

The sparse bodies were littered across the floor, no furniture remaining for them to rest on, a pitiful sight to behold. Enjorlas, Grantaire and Courfeyrac lay with their heads against the wall, as they had been left all those days ago. Gavroche was a fair few feet away, lying not far from the door. But Éponine, who had lain beside her younger brother, her hand clutching at his, was the one that caught Marius' attention once again, causing him to gasp and exit the place. The space where Éponine had lain was empty.

It took barely a moment for the young man to bolt from the room, sprinting as fast as he could have done back along Rue de Villette, only pausing when he reached the end of the street, where the end forked into three pathways, only one of which was familiar to Marius. So, that was the path that he took.

The street was dimly lit, so that shadows danced spectrally in the flickering of the flames. Even in the darkness, the young student could see the buildings he had become accustomed to seeing over the years, when the street had led to the one he had used to call his home. Before the barricades, that was. Now, he had no home at all.

After just a few more moments of walking, looking over his shoulder for every other, Marius finally saw the place he had been looking for. The place where he had once lived. The Gorbeau building.

However, as he reached out his hand for the door handle, preparing to enter the fearful tenancy once more, the young man paused, still and silent. Between the harsh night's breeze, the laughter, the cries and the sound of robberies in the Paris air, he heard something else. This was utterly different to it all. The sound was a song.

Turning once again, so as to follow the tune, Marius found that, though he could hardly remember from where, he recognised the melody of the song.

As he drew closer to the source of the sound, his feet spurring him faster to his destination with every step he took. The voice was louder now, and was stirring a memory deep within him, not only with the tune, but with the voice itself as well. '_I recognise it now.'_ Marius thought, his breathing rapidly increasing from the pace he walked at. '_I am not sure where from, or how I know it, but I do, and that is all that matters.'_

Due to this pace, the student was stood at the corner of the adjacent street in seconds. From the spot where he leant against the wall, panting in an attempt to catch his breath, Marius could hear the sextet of words that were sung with utter clarity.

_Find me now, find me here._

'_I could've sworn that I have heard those words before.'_ he told himself, wracking his brains for the answer to his question. Although that answer did not come, another one did. He may not have been able to place the words, but the voice… that he most certainly could recognise.

Seemingly not caring that the situation was utterly impossible, Marius sprinted around the corner, dropping to his knees beside the body that lay against the paving stones. With patched trousers, time worn boots and a torn, blood stained shirt, her dark, untamed hair covering her surely bruise covered face, the woman was instantly recognisable to the young bourgeois man, who near cried out in shock at the sight of his old friend reduced to so little.

"Oh, 'Ponine."

A/N: So she has been found! Watch out though, it isn't going to be plain sailing. Please review for next chapter!


	5. An Unhappy Reunion

Chapter Five

A/N: Thank you to lonewolfblood13, Miri the Wildmage, PhantomFandom, Christine Eponine, NanLikesEmmie-Bear, Jade and Mary-Anne for reviewing the last chapter. You're great!

As her eyes flickered open and the pounding in her head became more evident, Éponine came to realise that she was no longer in the streets where she had fallen.

The room around her was white in colour, with large, oval shaped windows and soft netted curtains. It was quiet and airy, and the young brunette could not help but think that she was in Heaven at last. '_No.'_ she told herself. '_This cannot be Heaven. If it were, I would feel Marius' love for me beating along with my heart. But I don't.'_

But if she was not in Heaven, as she had first thought, then where could she be? Éponine had never once been in such a pure, clean looking place, not even when she had lived in the lap of luxury at her father's inn, during her early childhood. At least, before everything had gone wrong.

Suddenly, her location hit Éponine like a ton of bricks crashing into her gut. She was in a hospital. It seemed that her father had finally done enough to cripple her, the young woman summarised, bringing the stabbing ache in her stomach into the equation.

After a moment, she remembered the true reason for her pain, as memory after memory swamped her puzzled mind. The barricades, the rebellion, the message to Cosette… and the gunshot she had intercepted, saving Marius from death, and almost causing it for herself as she did so. By all rights, she should have died, when the bullet pierced her hand, stomach and back, but she did not. '_Maybe it would have been better for everyone if I had done.'_

Suddenly, Éponine heard a faint patter of patent shoes against the cold tile of the ward floor and instinctively closed her eyes, not quite sure why she did so, as her face was turned in the opposite direction to the doorway anyway, although her body was not, due to the doctor's wishes not to aggravate her wounds any further, for fear that it would slow their healing.

The footsteps seemed to pause a fair few feet away from her bedside, as she heard no breathing from above her, nor was she covered by a shadow. Despite the fact that she so wished to do so, the brunette restrained the urge to turn and face the figure, to ascertain their identity and if they were indeed a friend or a foe. She was still a rebel, injured or not, and those that remained in the National Guard were still hunting for any survivors.

Though she could hardly hear anything above the sound of her own thumping heartbeat, the young woman specifically heard the sound of a heavy sigh come from the figure's mouth, a sigh filled with hurt, guilt and regret, though why anyone, other than a select few, would feel those emotions in relation to her, Éponine could only guess about.

Of all the people she had known in her lifetime, only a sparse amount of them could have felt guilt towards her. Her father could have done, had he changed his personality immensely over the couple of days, but he surely would not have let out such an obvious sigh, as he would still wish to keep his emotions to himself, no matter what changes had been made to him. It could also have been her mother, she supposed, but then quickly decided against that also, as the sigh had been far too masculine for that to have been considered an option. But then who else could it have been? Only one other had any cause to feel guilty at the injuries she had sustained, but it was not possible for that man to be the one stood over her at that moment. Was it?

Unable to resist the temptation, Éponine slightly opened one eye, ignoring the fact that she had her back to the one who now cast a distinct male shadow over the very edge of her bedside, and thus that he could not see her face at all. She could not see him either, of course, but could tell a few details from his shadow that she could not have possibly done with her eyes shut, as all her common sense told her absolutely.

He seemed to be quite tall, from what she could tell from the absence of light cast over her supposedly sleeping form, and had tousled hair, strays flying up from his head, giving him the look of a rather mad scientist who had been too long hanging around balloons and the like. It was almost comical to see, even though Éponine had not actually witnessed the style of his hair for herself, only through shadow, but even so.

'_It looks as if he hasn't slept for days, judging by his hair.' _the young woman mused, tilting her head slightly further into the pillows, though not far enough to have been noticed by the man. '_Or as if he has woken every morning and not even bothered to put a comb through his hair, because he just wanted to get through the day. Like I used to do.'_

Suddenly, another thought struck her. The comparison of the man, both in looks, habits and reactions to the man she had used to know had lead the brunette to only one conclusion, the only possible person that it could be standing above her. It was too great a similarity for her to possibly be wrong.

Unable to stand the tension any longer, the girl turned her head, ignoring the thumping pain within her very mind as she did so, along with the aggravating wound searing in her stomach, but still she persevered, her curiosity, her lust for knowledge pushing her forwards through the pain.

When she had fully turned, though she had been wishing to see the face that she did, Éponine could still not believe her eyes. She surely must have been dreaming, this could not possibly have been real. She could hardly summon the strength to whisper his name, but did so the moment she could find her voice.

"Marius."

A/N: And so they finally meet! Please review!


	6. Loved for a Little While

Chapter Six

A/N: Thank you to HelljumperScout, PhantomFandom, Christine Eponine and guest for reviewing.

A long silence followed the single word, as neither party could truly believe what they saw before them, despite the fact that they had wished for it since the events of the first battle. Or even because of it.

Éponine had closed her eyes once again, as if she did not believe what they reported to her, or did not want to. The girl had been let down so many times in her life by believing in things that were not truly there, and she did not wish for such an occurrence to hurt her once again, the false hope having been more painful than any blows ever landed by her father.

Marius, on the other hand, could not take his eyes off of the woman lain on the bed. He had watched her be shot, held her as she died, sobbed over her lifeless body, and yet here she was, living and breathing before him as if nothing had happened at all. He almost could not dare to believe in the fact that she was not a ghost, or a memory, or a trick, but convinced himself to do so. After all, he had always been taught to look upon the bright side of life, as it was a better way to live. If he could see Éponine before him, then he could bring himself to believe that she was real.

"Éponine?" he asked, his voice a great deal stronger than hers had been, when she had spoken his name a couple of minutes earlier. "Is that you, 'Ponine?"

In truth, the man did not know why he asked. He would recognise his young friend in a crowd of a hundred girls, something that he probably could not say for his beloved Cosette, as she had far less distinguishable features than the brunette did, not that it made her any less beautiful, of course, as she had the beauty of an angel come to earth in Marius' eyes.

"Yes." the young woman answered in a rasping voice, bringing the student from his revenue and reminding him of her presence at his side. "Believe it or not, it is me. I'm sorry if that disappoints you."

For a moment, the dark haired man went silent. When Éponine had spoken to him for the first time, that response to his question had not been the one he had been expecting. Truthfully, he did not know what he had been expecting, as he had not had time enough to consider the options, and he had never expected to be able to speak to the young Thénardier again, as having cradled her until she was dead, the young man had naturally expected her to stay that way.

"Oh, 'Ponine. How can you possibly think that about me?" he asked, trying desperately to convince the younger of his point of view. However, as she winced when he spoke the old fond nickname he had used to have for her, the man could see that he had a lot more work to do. That still did not stop him from using it again though, thinking that persistence was the best method for getting through to her. "I could never been disappointed that you're here with me again. It's a miracle that you are even living, 'Ponine, after the trauma you went through at the barricade, and it is not a miracle that I would ever have wished to have been denied."

"Oh, really?" she questioned in return, attempting to a great extent to keep her voice on a level tone, but realising soon that she was failing. "And why would you care about what happened to a dirty little street rat like me?"

The words echoed in the room like a flight of doves' wings in a church hall, seeming to be amplified through the silence that remained after they were spoken. The painful impact of them was just as prominent for the pair, and their eye contact was broken immediately, Marius' gaze turning to the view from the window and Éponine's filling with tears that fell down into her lap, leaving miniscule spots of dampness upon the pure white linen. Neither dared to look back to the other, fearing that they would find the other person staring at them, and so the period of hush lasted for a great deal longer than it would have needed to do, had they not been so stubborn.

Eventually, it was Éponine that broke the quiet, speaking in a voice that was still choked with tears, though she was chagrined that it had remained as such, even after her eyes had dried. "Everything has changed now, hasn't it? They're all dead. All of them. They fought for freedom, for a new world that would rise up with the sun in the morning. Where's that new world now, when the men who fought for it fell into the dust with a single shot? Where I should have lain now."

Marius opened his mouth to speak, but found it closing again very quickly, as the young woman had resumed her speech.

"Not all of them were men, you know, though of course, you would. Some of them were just boys, not even tall enough to match the size of the gun." By the time she had reached this point in her speech, the girl was sobbing. Marius did not quite understand the reason for this, as she had never been particularly close to any members of the revolution, nor to the children that hung around for the fun of this. But when the next phrase came from her mouth, he suddenly understood. "Gavroche was the smallest of all."

In an instant, the silence and the awkwardness and all the façades disappeared, leaving only two friends, one of whom had lost the only family member she had loved as much as they had loved her. Forgetting all of the harsh words which had passed between them, the student stepped forward, embracing the brunette, whose sobs had been mingled with cries of loss. For a long while, neither knew how long, nothing else mattered.

For now, they were just Marius and his little 'Ponine.

A/N: Finally, a reunion, but it's not going to be plain sailing, I'm afraid. Please, please review!


	7. Shattered Dreams

Chapter Seven

A/N: Thank you to Christine Eponine for reviewing the last chapter.

Three days had passed, and for Éponine they had been three of the most pleasurable that she could remember in a long while, albeit three of the longest. Marius had visited her every day, most often twice, before and after he had completed his day's work, and sometimes in his lunch hour as well, always with a smile on his face which brightened up her day, as well as the dreary hospital room itself.

During this time, there had been no mention of the barricade, her father, the Patron-Minette. It had been blissful, just as they had used to be, and most importantly, there had been not one mention of the little bird that had torn them apart. For that, the young brunette was most grateful, as it was all she needed to have her recovery ruined by her best friend once again speaking of Cosette as if she was a star fallen to earth.

He still thought of her, that much Éponine could tell by sight, and though she did not really like it, there was nothing she could do to make that change. It was evident that he still thought of Cosette as the one person he could ever marry, while she remained as only his friend. True, she was the most important of all of his friends, or so he had told her many a time, and remained as his best friend, but he did not love her. Not in the way she wanted to be loved.

'_Perhaps he will never love me like that, like her.'_ the brunette thought to herself, and immediately winced for doing so. It was the worst fear she had experienced in a long while, even more severe than her father's temper, or being caught by Javert and sent to prison. '_Perhaps it is Cosette that he loves, and only she that he will ever love. Perhaps I've just been jesting myself all along.'_

The thought brought her mind to think of the words she had sung to herself, only a couple of weeks earlier, as the rain had poured down over her, soaking her to the skin and causing her to shiver, though she did so due to the tears pouring down her face, rather than to the water falling from the sky.

_All my life, I've only been pretending._

She had been heartbroken, and sang in the streets, calling out to the stars as if pleading for someone, anyone, to take Cosette from her life again, and to return her Marius to her, for all to be as it once was, before the two had bumped into each other in the square. Of course, she had known that no one would listen, and still knew so now, but she could hope, and when there was nothing else left to her name, hope was all Éponine Thénardier had left.

'_It is my fault, in a way.'_ she supposed, wiping a stray tear from her eye. '_After all, Marius was calling after me when he met her, and if I had not run away from him in the first place, he would not have needed to do so. It was even me who led him to Rue Plumet, me who delivered his final letter to the woman. All of this is my doing.'_

However, when the door to the room swung open, revealing a dark haired man with a pile of books in his arms, the young woman allowed her mind to empty of all thoughts of Cosette, and instead concentrated on the fact that Marius was with her now, not with the lark, who would not be returning for a good amount of time, she hoped, given that the girl was probably living the high life in England at that very moment.

"_Bon matin, _'Ponine." the young man greeted, a cheery smile plastered to his face, as it always was when she saw him. It was always uplifting to have her friend around, due to his infectious smile, one which always caught onto her the moment he entered a room. This was a feat in itself, as there were few things left in the cruel world of Paris that could still lift the spirits of the 'Jondrette girl', or she had come to be known, though another money making ploy of her father's.

"_Bon matin,_ _M'sieur_." she responded nonetheless, seeing it to be the polite thing to do, although manners were never a strong point for her, having been brought up living more on the streets that off them. "Have you had a good day?"

It was rather a boring question to ask, and one that the young woman would never have considered asking before, especially not to Marius, though she had very few other friends that she could ask, but she could think of no other things to say, despite having tried to do so for a long while before he had entered the room. On the contrary to her own opinions, the man seemed happy to answer. Almost a little too happy. "Oh, my day has been fantastic, 'Ponine, better than I could have ever imagined. I left the shop, this morning, to go and collect a new order of books for my employer, as a collector had decided to clear out a little, and when I had collected them, I slipped on a paving stone, just a few feet away from the shop front. There was no one around, and so I had thought, but I saw someone bend down beside me, picking up the books and helping me to stand. When I raised my head, so that I could thank the person properly, I caught sight of the woman's face, and I could hardly believe it."

Immediately, the young woman opened her mouth to ask the obvious question, but Marius had already glanced to the doorway, which had been darkened once again. And true to the man's testimony, when she caught sight of the person there, Éponine truly could not breathe, let alone allow her mind to comprehend the fact that her life had fallen to pieces before her eyes.

The woman in the doorway was Cosette.

A/N: No! Poor 'Ponine, but it had to happen. Please review!


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